


trick or treat

by harrow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Trick or Treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrow/pseuds/harrow
Summary: "Evening, Sherlock," he said casually. "Uh, trick or treat."





	trick or treat

John pressed the buzzer with one finger and then waited. The street was dark already. At one end of the block there was a small child dressed as a pumpkin, and he was being led by his parents up the steps to one of the townhouses. On the other side of the closed black door there was silence, and then the thumping of feet down the steps, and then the door swung open, revealing a disheveled-looking Sherlock. He looked about the stoop and then back at John before cocking his head to one side.

"John?" asked Sherlock, confused. "Why did you ring the bell?"

John placed his hands carefully behind his back.

"Evening, Sherlock," he said casually. "Uh, trick or treat."

"What?" Sherlock's brow furrowed.

"Trick," John repeated, "or treat."

There was a pause, and then Sherlock's eyes roved over John from head to toe and then up and down the street, as though scanning for some sort of clue. "What's going on?" he demanded. "Is that code?"

John had to stifle a laugh. "No, Sherlock, it's a question. Trick, or treat? You're supposed to pick one." Sherlock still looked confused. "Oh, come on, it's not that hard. Just choose: trick, or treat."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Fine," he said. "Trick, then."

Sherlock watched intensely, waiting for John to do something. But John didn't do anything right away. Instead he sniffed and looked back down the street in a bored fashion. Then he turned back to Sherlock as though only just remembering he was there.

"Oh," said John, pointing casually towards Sherlock's chest. "You've got something on your lapel, there."

"What? No I don't."

"Yeah, you do," John said. "Must have spilled something on it."

But Sherlock, twat that he is, refused to look down. Instead he stared at John seriously and said, "John, there is absolutely nothing on my lapel."

And John found himself having to stifle another laugh. "Oh, come on," he said. "Look, you picked trick, so here it is: you've got something on your lapel." When Sherlock still did nothing, he supplied, "You're supposed to look down to check."

Sherlock hesitated, but when John raised his brows at him he huffed and finally did it, tilting his chin downward so he had a view of his own jacket.

"Well," said Sherlock, still looking down, "as you can see, John, there is—"

John interrupted him by wrapping a hand up in the lapel in question and pulling Sherlock towards him. Sherlock's eyes widened in surprise, but John only saw them for a second, before he was pressing their mouths together.

By the time they pulled apart Sherlock was panting against John's cheek.

"I, uh, know you didn't pick it, but there's your treat," John said, and smiled.


End file.
